


Waiting For You

by teamchaosprez



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-10 23:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11701689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamchaosprez/pseuds/teamchaosprez
Summary: Morrison said that Gerard's team would be home by ten. No later than twelve.





	Waiting For You

**Author's Note:**

> i dont often focus on just gerard and ames but i need to do it more often because i love them

Morrison said that Gerard’s strike team was supposed to be home by ten. No later than twelve.

Amelie had been more than a little excited at the news that her fiance was finally going to be coming home after being away on a mission for God knows how long. She was beginning to get tired of moping around the apartment and waiting for the news that she had gotten the lead role in the ballet she had auditioned for just before he left; and she was definitely tired of being lonely, having only Lena to talk to, and God only knows that girl can get quite irritating after a while.

So she had put on her nice bra, gotten some tea going so that it would be ready for Gerard by 10, and sat down in the living room with a tray of the stuff on the coffee table in front of her and a novel in her lap. She normally would have decided to practice some dancing so that she wasn’t rusty from the two months she had taken off from ballet - an ankle injury, not too serious but just bad enough to keep her out of commission, had kept her off her toes for a while - but she didn’t feel like being sweaty when her fiance finally got home and they got to catching up on what they’d missed.

Wink, wink.

She wasn’t worried when the clock went from 10:00 to 10:10 to 10:20. There was always some sort of difference between the time Morrison said and the time Gerard actually walked in through the door; the folks over at Overwatch were often more than a little concerned with checking over every agent’s physical health the moment they got back, and the process could take up to half an hour for any particular agent, longer if there were any injuries.

At 10:30, a twinge of anxiety panged in her chest, but she reminded herself quietly that the strike commander had said he could be home as late as midnight. So Amelie swallowed down her worry and continued to read her book, more interested in what she had missed out on in not reading  _ Les Miserables _ until her early twenties. It was a distraction, at the very least, from how worried she was right now; but reading about the ailments of the peasants during French Revolution #5,000,000 was doing little to quell her ever growing worry. 

So by 11:00, a full hour after the time she had been given, Amelie decided to close the book and get up to do something else. Maybe make an attempt to warm up the tea, since it had definitely gotten cold just sitting around on the coffee table; yeah, that was probably something better to do with her time. The young woman hopped up to her feet from the couch, taking the tray into both of her hands and quickly walking into the kitchen, making a beeline for the stove.

Though she was sure that she would be contacted before anyone else if something bad had happened to her fiance, by 11:30 Amelie was worried enough that she was tossing her phone between her hands and watching the news, biting her lower lip hard enough that it would be painful if she wasn’t so distracted. Gerard meant the world - no, more than the world to her, and she did not want to lose him. By midnight, she was a full blown nervous wreck, trying to reach Ana or Angela on her phone but not getting an answer; not even getting an acknowledgement.

She reminded herself that it was late. That normal people were asleep by now. That it wasn’t entirely unlike Gerard to stay overnight at the watchpoint without telling her first. That even if he was hurt, she probably would have been contacted and escorted to his side if it was truly serious. These reminders did little to soothe her, and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was sleep deprived or because she was really,  _ really _ worried about her beloved, but by the time the clock struck one she was crying face down into a pillow and fearing the worst.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because next thing she knew she was woken up by the lock on the door clicking to announce that it was unlocked. Amelie blinked her eyes open, sitting up slowly and rubbing at her eyes, barely aware of her long hair being much more tangled than it had been when she laid down on the couch - only figuring out why she was on the couch and there were tear stains down her cheeks was looking over at the coffee table and spotting the long cold tea that had been left there. She groaned and rubbed at her eyes as she sat up and glanced over at the door, watching it open and the man she had been waiting for all night walk inside.

“Ah, Amelie!” He spoke with the same enthusiasm that he gave almost anything, rushing up to her and scooping her up in his arms. He twirled her around, seemingly not really noticing or caring that she didn’t look as polished as she normally did. A wide smile was on Gerard’s face, and he pressed a light kiss against his cheek. “Oh, you would not  _ believe _ the mission I just had.”

His breath… smelled like alcohol. Wine. Amelie wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but she was a little concerned. Had he come home late, making her cry herself to sleep, because he was out for a drink? She would probably interrogate him about it, but she was glad enough that he was alive and well that she didn’t ask a single question. She did glance at the clock, though, to find that it was a few minutes past four in the morning. He arrived home  _ six hours late. _

“Ha, we had Talon backed up into a corner,” he began talking, and hopped up onto the coffee table, brandishing his favorite dagger. Yes, he was  _ definitely _ drunk; Gerard was normally at least smart enough to know that Amelie didn’t like him standing on the furniture and waving his knife around. “Reyes and I managed to infiltrate the security, and I rushed in to discover the information that we needed. I had to fight off guards to get out - and I made my way out to the rendezvous point with barely a scratch!” He flopped off of the coffee table to lay on the couch, letting out a heavy sigh and dropping his knife to his side.

“Your fiance is quite the talented gentleman, my dear,” he announced happily, seeming to be calming down from his ego funded mania. He really didn’t seem to notice that Amelie was so tired and haggard; and if he did, he didn’t care enough to mention it. The Frenchwoman swallowed thickly, feeling faintly sick and upset that he was unharmed and hadn’t even thought to call her before he went out for a drink. Still, she tried to remain calm, sucking in a small breath.

“Where have you been, Gerard? Morrison said that you were supposed to be home  _ hours ago _ ,” she asked, her voice coming out a lot calmer than she had initially expected it to. She was embarrassed from having a fool made of her, and angry that her fiance hadn’t even  _ called _ to let her know that he was safe and on his way home. The relief that he was safe and worry over him was fading as she became sure that he was unharmed - not even a scratch on any of the skin that she could see. She wasn’t about to let him know that she was angry, though - she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, let him give her any sort of reasonable explanation. Maybe Torbjorn had dragged him to the bar before he could even get his phone back from his locker?

Amelie trusted Gerard, and she desperately wanted to believe that he would never hurt her intentionally - no, she knew that he would never make an active attempt to hurt her. That didn’t explain him being so oblivious that he would avoid letting the woman that he loved know that he was okay.

She could see the drunken ego on his face fade ever so slightly as he realized that she was obsessed. He blinked slightly at her, and his confident air was almost completely gone when he spoke up again. “I, uh, I went out for a drink with the rest of the strike team. To celebrate. Because this was a mission that we were planning for a long time. I’m certain that I called you to let you know beforehand!” He puffed out his chest a little bit, as if he genuinely believed that his lie would be bought. Maybe he did. Maybe his intoxication was making it impossible to actually think like a logical human being.

“You didn’t.” She ran a hand across her face and let out a heavy sigh. “Gerard, I was worried sick about you. I waited up for hours praying that you would get home safe and sound. I can’t believe that you didn’t even call me to let me know that you were alright. I was scared that I was going to get a call from Angela telling me that you were too badly hurt to come home. I can’t believe that you decided to go off to get a drink after not seeing me for months instead of coming home.”

Her fiance didn’t seem to be too sympathetic to her distress, and scoffed ever so slightly, waving a hand. “I think you need to loosen up,  _ mon cherie _ ,” was all he said before he picked his knife back up, studying it to make sure that no dents had appeared in its smooth metal surface. “Sometimes I just feel like having fun. I don’t need to be tied down just because you’re waiting around for me, and I don’t expect for you to be tied down by me.”

“That’s not -,” Amelie began to snap in response, but took a heavy breath before she could actually finish speaking. She could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “Gerard Lacroix, I have not heard from you in months. I don’t care whether or not you missed me, hell, I don’t care that you decided to go out and have a drink or ten before you came home. You’ve probably earned it. I just wish that you would have used your brain for a moment, and considered that maybe I would worry, and decided to give me a call to let me know that you would be home later and it was safe to go to bed. Try to imagine if the roles were reversed. How would you feel if I left you for two months and neglected to let you know that I was safe the moment I got back, and stumbled in drunk hours after the time that my commander gave you?”

Gerard looked like he was searching for a witty retort, but seemed to catch the look on her face. Alas, her attempt at remaining cool and collected had dissipated, and now she looked like she was holding down tears - and rightfully so. The assassin reached out to touch her, but Amelie moved her shoulder out of the way before his hand could come into contact with it.

“I love you. I don’t want to be left in the dark. I want to be here for you, and I want us to be together forever.” She sucked in a deep breath, feeling one tear roll down her cheek. “But I don’t know if I can continue to do this if you’re going to avoid talking to me and then invalidate my feelings as soon as I express any sort of discontent. I understand that it’s nothing compared to whatever the hell you do, but I’m constantly stressed and worried about your safety, and stunts like this do nothing to help. This relationship isn’t going to work if this keeps up.”

Her fiance seemed stunned for a moment, apparently not entirely sure of what he was supposed to say. Amelie could feel more tears leaking from her eyes, and wiped them away with one hand, letting out a heavy and shaking breath. Gerard reached out to her again, and this time Amelie didn’t shove him off when he gently rested his hands against her upper arms. He still smelled of alcohol, but was making an attempt at being serious this time.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset. I had no idea -,” he cut himself off, grimacing slightly. “Well, I had something of an idea, but I didn’t know that you felt this way. I… it wasn’t my intention to make you worry so much. I promise that I’ll try to be more careful in the future, and you will be the first person to know as soon as I touch down back at the base. I’ll even have Reyes let you know that I’m alive whenever we’re on missions together.”

The ballerina sniffled slightly, and moved closer to her fiance, allowing him to embrace her and hold her close. “I’m… not as good at speaking when I’m drunk,” he said apologetically, letting out a faint laugh, and Amelie couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly.

“It’s okay. We can talk more when you’re sober.” Amelie sniffled, and pulled away from Gerard, wiping away the remainder of the tears. “For now, I think that we should just get some sleep. You have some time off before you have another mission, right?”

“Two whole weeks,” Gerard affirmed, and pressed a sloppy kiss against Amelie’s forehead that made her grimace ever so slightly. He was right - he was worlds less smooth than he was sober. “And all of that time, we can spend together.”

Amelie’s heart lifted slightly. Her anger was forgotten - for now, at least.

For now, they could rest.


End file.
